Desert Rose
by LeilaEditer
Summary: He loved her more than she would ever know. He would do anything for her. She was his desert rose. Only roses don't grow in the desert. Nothing ever does. Oneshot, Ganondorf/Nabooru


**Okay, I've been wanting to do this for a while. The song is Desert Rose by Sting featuring Cheb Mami. It's a beautiful song, and I thought it was perfect for these too. Reality updates are coming soon, I've already got the chapter totally planned. And to the four people that aced about beta reading: I have to decide! I'll feel like a horrible person if I pick one over the other, but what I can say is I have PLENTY of other fics planned, and those need betas too! So enjoy. Lyrics are italicized, and this is Desert Rose.**

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It hadn't been an instant love. It was more a mere tolerance for company's sake. He was the only male in a female society, their king, yet still an outcast. She was far too short tempered and couldn't hold her tongue. Most people couldn't stand to be in her presence. But he didn't mind. As long as she was willing to talk to him, he was willing to put up with her.

They talked often. At first, it was just small talk exchanged inbetween training sessions when most people were resting with friends. Conversation was limited to lessons and sparring, and neither of them thought much of it. They were simply grateful for a listening ear. Then the conversations went farther and lasted longer, delving into deeper, darker topics. They would talk more and more, at meal break, between weapon training, even during classes. Thus began a friendship, one that ran deeper and stronger than the roots of desert cacti. They met outside of classes. They caused all sorts of trouble for their parents and tutors. They went exploring out in the beautiful desert. And they talked. There was always talking.

He vented about how hard it was to be the only boy. How all the girls wanted him, only because of a boy and not who he was as a person. She told him all her darkest fears and secrets, and told him stories her grandmother used to tell her, tales of heroes and adventurers. And as they grew older with each other, he realized one thing.

He loved her.

_I dream of rain_

_I dream of gardens in the desert sand_

_I wake in vain_

_I dream of love as time runs through my hand_

It's always dry in the desert. The scorching heat drives cracks in the brittle ground. Hot winds sweep the dust into the air. Nothing thrives in the deserts. We have no beautiful flora and fauna as many other nations take pride in. We have no majestic flower beds, or tall, shady trees to rest under. How often I yearn to catch a rest under a tree, not a withered cactus plant. Occasionally, a tumbleweed blows through the barren wastelands. How often I hope and wish for something pretty to break the bare, desolate plains of the desert. I dream of such gardens. I dream of grass and flowers and streams. But it's all only a dream. And when I wake, I see the same forsaken landscape I always do.

I may not have flowers.

But I have Nabooru.

Nabooru. Saying her name sends shivers down my spine. She's worth a thousand rainfalls and acres of grassy hills. She makes the heat and drought bearable. She brings a smile to my face despite the hard times we face. We've been friends since childhood, but I only wonder if my dreams of love are all in vain. Many women come knocking at my door, each beautiful, each hopeful, each seeking my hand in marriage.

But none compare to Nabooru, the only woman fit to be my queen.

She often asks me why I still do not marry. I am not as young as I used to be. My teens have flown away, my twenties coming to an end soon. I do not tell her that I wait for her and only her. I would wait thousands of years for my Nabooru to love me. And every second would be worth it.

_I dream of fire_

_Those dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire_

_And in the flames_

_Her shadow plays in the shape of a man's desire_

No one comes close in comparing to her. The way she's the only girl in the fortress that doesn't trip over herself to get me to notice her. The way she is just herself. The way she doesn't try. Her smile lights up the desert. Her laughter is like the sweetest music. Her scarlet hair looks beautiful thrown up in a simple ponytail. Her eyes. They burn like the fire she is. She is a raging, dancing fire. Never stopping, never slowing, only burning brighter. No one can put her out, no one can contain her. She's like a wild brush fire sweeping through the wastelands, razing all in her path.

I can't get her out of my head. Every minute, every hour, every day, she is there. I see her laughing, smiling, glaring, teasing. I feel her laying her head on my shoulder as we sit on a cliff talking in the cool desert moonlight. I see her taunting me as she urges her horse ahead of mine, her eyes daring me to challenge her.

She's all I want. She's all I need. She's always in my head. I'm far too deep over my head for her. And no matter how I try to dig myself out, she always manages to bury me deeper.

_This desert rose_

_Each of her veils, a secret promise_

_This desert flower_

_No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this_

Out of all plants, the rose is the most beautiful. None can equal the sweet perfection of a rose bud. Every thorn, every petal is shaped in the image of beauty. Roses don't grow in the desert. I can only imagine what the fabled beauties look like. And what comes to mind is Nabooru. Nabooru and her cryptic manner. Nabooru and all her mysteries.

On many occasions, I'll come looking for her and find nothing where she should be. Nothing but a possession of hers, usually a ceremonial veil, and a note. A note of riddles and puzzles, always signed at the bottom _"Come find me"_.

And I don't rest until I do, discovering her in a cave, on a cliff too, in some old ruins, by an undiscovered oasis.

Maybe that's why I'm so intrigued with her. She's full of mysteries, never boring, never ceases to surprise me. But among all that, she might be the only girl I know who doesn't want me back. She treats me like a best friend, and for that I am grateful, but it only makes me yearn more for her love that is not mine. She's a puzzle and untouchable, and she tortures me everyday. I know I can't have her, yet that only makes me want her even more. The forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

_And as she turns_

_The way she moves in the logic of all my dreams_

_This fire burns_

_I realize that nothing's as it seems_

If only I could forget about her. If only I could wish her out of my head. Yet it is impossible. I dream of her every night and see her every day. We spar together daily. I watch her everyday, savoring every detail. I watch how her tan arms flex as she stabs. I watch how her golden eyes light up with the adrenaline of battle. I watch as her flaming hair whips behind her as she turns to deflect my blows.

The fire in my heart is kindled everyday. It burns stronger than the flames of Din herself, and spread faster than a dry brushfire.

I remember one day, one wonderful and beautiful day, when Nabooru and I were off on another one of our desert excursions. It was growing dark, and we wouldn't be able to make it back to the fortress in time. We chose to settle on one of the many plateaus that rise above the desert, and we lit a fire and gazed out over the silver sands of night. The winds were sharp and cold, and we huddled close together for warmth. It felt so right to feel her body snuggled up close to mine. I felt like I owned the world. She was mine, and I would protect her at all costs.

She leaned her head on my shoulder, and then she looked up at me, locking eyes.

"There's an old story, Ganon," she said. "A tale of an old desert shaman and his wife. He and his wife had braved many years of the desert, and made their home in the desert. They lived, breathed and preached that desert. The blue skys, the golden sands, and the rugged rock formations. Now, the shaman and his wife were very old. And one day, the wife passed on, leaving the man by himself in the big desert. He buried her with grief in his heart. She was his pride and joy in his life, and with her gone, he had nothing. He wanted to honor his wife and show her how much she truly meant to him. So he planted a rose seed, right above her grave, out in the middle of the blistering deserts. The gods and goddesses all laughed and ridiculed him, the foolish man who believed he could grow a flower in the desert. He turned a blind eye on their taunts, and spent all of his time nurturing and caring for his seedling. Soon, a small sprout had poked through the cracked ground. And not long afterwards, he had a rose. The rose grew to the heavens, and it was the most lovely rose anyone had seen on earth. The man talked to it every day, and when he died, he was buried right next to his wife. And where he was buried, a second rose began to sprout."

She had looked up at me with her big, round eyes.

"Would you plant a rose for me, Ganon?"

I had so desperately wanted to pull her to me and never let go, and tell her she was my rose and nothing would ever change that. Instead I replied,

"Of course, Nab. I would do anything for you."

She had smiled and closed her eyes.

"Anything. A little dangerous, don't you think? Ganon..." she had trailed off, and she pulled away from my shoulder and turned to face me. Something on her face was different, and that worried me.

"Nabooru, are you-"

And she leaned forward and kissed me. I remember how soft her lips were on mine, how gentle she was, and how short and sweet the kiss was.

And the next day it was like a dream. She didn't acknowledge that anything happened, and it was like it never happened.

I was left to try to sort through my emotions, and I wanted her even more.

_I dream of rain _

_I lift my gaze to empty skies of blue_

_I close my eyes_

_This rare perfume is the sweet intoxication of her love_

I only wish I could be relieved of my constant torture. I wish I could forcefully remove her from my mind and heart, but the fire has grown too strong. No rains could put out the blaze of love raging in my heart. And I don't see any storm clouds coming soon. It's as if she mocks me, yet I know she doesn't. I mock myself, replaying her over and over in my head, always so close yet always so unreachable.

She's like a sweet wine from the north, an intoxicating and beautiful delicacy. Nothing else is like her, nothing else compares. I get drunk on her presence. I fear I am beyond help, beyond any point of rational reasoning.

All I know is I love her.

_Sweet desert rose_

_This memory of Eden haunts us all_

_This desert flower_

_This rare perfume is the sweet intoxication of the fall_

And so I stumble through. I continue as I am, living life as I always have. My dreams of her are livid, dreaming of us in a lost paradise, remenants of a love too late. I fear I'll lose her forever. She may never be mine. And that's what hurts the most.

She could belong to someone else, relaxing in their arms, kissing their lips, sleeping in their bed. Some days, my dreams seem like a lost cause, a false hope, a fantasy land not worth pursuing. Yet other times, I regain my hope and am enraptured by her once more. It's a constant cycle of ups and downs, yet through it all, I know it may be all in vain.

But I can't give up on her. I never could give up on her. She is perfect in every way. She is my blue sky, my sunshine, my blissful rainfall.

She is my flower in the scorching heat.

She is my desert rose.

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**Tell me what you think! First songfic, whoo!**

**~Leila**


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